


Quiet Night In

by FlaxenHairedSamurai



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, King Alistair, Mentions of Morrigan and Kieran, Queen Cousland, Set between Origins and Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 20:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlaxenHairedSamurai/pseuds/FlaxenHairedSamurai
Summary: There is something Elissa wants to talk to Alistair about.





	Quiet Night In

When the day’s ruling was over and done with, Their Royal Highnesses King Alistair and Queen Elissa, Grey Wardens, Heroes of the Fifth Blight blah blah blah, would retire to their personal apartments and lock the door. Metaphorically of course, because the last time they had locked the door it had taken them an hour to find the key in the morning, and the servants got very frantic as they swarmed to find the spare, while Fereldan’s nobility gathered in the great hall and wondered what on earth their monarchs were up to. And Elissa had laughed at him, and still giggled when it came up in conversation.

So now they told everyone they were unavailable except for the worst emergencies, such as another Blight, or Ollie getting into the larder again, and they were left alone. Alistair was fairly certain that the Sixth Blight was still a long way off, and Ollie was sprawled in front of the fireplace, hogging all the heat. It was going to be another quiet night.

He went to say as much when he finally came in, delayed by a meeting, but when he located his wife, the words died in his throat.

Elissa had taken to ruling better than he had; a perk of her upbringing he supposed. She helped him with the paperwork, and knew more polite ways to tell nobles to go away than he did. But sometimes, even she was worn down, and those were the days when they would sit together quietly before going to bed. Tonight was supposed to have been one of those nights, or so he’d guessed considering they’d both been supressing yawns through the afternoon.

Instead of relaxing in her armchair though, Elissa was sitting ramrod straight, staring into the fire with a look that Alistair knew all too well. It was the look she’d worn when they first started out, no real destination in sight. It was the look she’d worn the night before the Landsmeet, after talking to Anora. Something was tearing at her heart. Something that she would keep quiet about until the resolution presented itself.

Clearing his throat, Alistair waited for the usual false smile to slip into place when she looked his way, but Elissa kept wearing her small frown, though she did rise, “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Oh. Oh hell, those were _not_ good words. Isolde had used them before suggesting Alistair was sent away. Wynne had used them before suggesting that his and Elissa’s relationship was not to their advantage. Even Anora had used them at some point, the end result leading to Elissa wearing that look for most of the night.

Nevertheless, Alistair steeled himself. He was the King of Ferelden, this was his beloved wife. What was the worst thing that she could say?

Elissa had barely opened her mouth before Alistair was cutting her off, “Please don’t tell me that you want a divorce.” Before she could even blink, he seemed to realise what he’d said, his eyes widening and hands stretching towards her, “Sorry love, that just- I was thinking about the worst thing you could say and- I’ll shut up now.”

Aha, his cunning plan had worked. Not to mention, the soft laughter confirmed that she definitely wasn’t asking for a divorce. Pleased on both counts, Alistair came closer, sitting in his chair. After a second, Elissa did too, the smile still on her face as she searched for the words. “When we first married, you pointed out that having children would be very difficult because we’re both Grey Warden, and I told you that it didn’t matter.” She licked her lips nervously, “I may have spoken too quickly.”

Feeling his stomach churn, Alistair took his wife’s hands, holding them safe in his own, “I know love. We’re trying. Vigorously, I might add,” He smirked, garnering chuckles, “We’re trying, and we’ll keep trying.”

“Vigorously?” Elissa asked.

“Very.”

Thinking that was the end of the matter, Alistair went to suggest they go get ready for bed, only for his wife to raise her head again, “The point is…there is a child, Alistair. He might not be ours, but he is yours and…” She trailed off when she saw him wince.

As a rule, they didn’t mention Morrigan or the ritual. Not in conjunction anyway, since Morrigan sent the odd letter, and Alistair would receive a long list of insults and other jibes just in case he got any ideas about being safe from her cutting remarks. And they definitely didn’t mention the child. Their survival at Fort Drakon was put down to an act of the Maker, and Alistair was quite content leaving it there. It had taken ages to forget that night, and he’d helped kill a freaking archdemon literally the next day, so that was saying quite a bit.

Now that he thought about it, they’d had a letter from Morrigan quite recently. She’d become a lot better at staying in touch now that she was Empress Celene’s advisor. Had she said something in her letter to make Elissa worry about not having a child of her own? Anger rose in him at the thought, his fingers twitching to write an equally harsh reply back. But when he opened his eyes again, and took in Elissa’s expression, the anger vanished. She and Morrigan had been friends, a matter beyond his understanding, but they had been close. It had been Morrigan who had wiped away Elissa’s worry about the Landsmeet, and Alistair was at least partially sure that the witch had wanted to save Elissa’s life through the ritual, as well as meeting her own goal.

As little as he liked her, Alistair knew that in this case, Morrigan was innocent.

“You want to meet the child.” He said it slowly; half hoping she’d change her mind halfway through the sentence. He wanted to add a ‘Why?’ but it would’ve been pointless, because he already knew that part.

“It wouldn’t have to be here. I’m not even sure Morrigan told him that you’re the king.” Elissa started gnawing on her lip, a nervous habit she’d picked up again after becoming queen and dealing with nobles all day. As always, her mother’s voice echoed in her mind and she released her lip, speaking to distract herself, “I could go to Orlais on a political visit, and if I spent time with them, it wouldn’t be so strange, because we were friends during the Blight. And I wouldn't interfere with her plan, so Morrigan shouldn't have any objection to my presence."

The amount of thought that Elissa had put into her plan worried Alistair, because it meant she had been thinking about the matter for a long time, and he hadn’t even noticed. And at the same time, he felt himself being won over by her expression, and the image of her playing with a dark haired boy marched into his head and refused to be budged.

And really, with a mother like Morrigan, the poor kid could probably do with seeing a smile not connected to some nasty witchy plan or something.

Realising Elissa had been completely silent during his musings, Alistair sighed quietly, trying not to notice how she sat up a little straighter at the sound. “If you’re sure-“

“I am.”

“Then I’m sure I could ask Teagan to find some excuse to send you to Orlais for a while. But that will have to wait until tomorrow, when we can look at this properly. For now…” Alistair stood up and gently towed Elissa with him, moving his mouth to her ear, “I believe we should continue with our hard work. What do you say?”

There was a quiet snort, his wife fixing him with a flirty grin, “My love, that sounds like a wonderful idea.”


End file.
